


home

by untouchableocean



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Blowjobs, M/M, but like loving sex, it's art thanks, sexy sexy sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-09 20:49:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20123611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/untouchableocean/pseuds/untouchableocean
Summary: Sometimes, home isn't a place. It's a person.





	home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lasorcas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasorcas/gifts).

> NAT ILY AND I'M SO GLAD I GOT TO WRITE THIS FOR YOU 💖💖💖

Charles drags himself up the stairs of Max’s apartment building, lugging his last two cases noisily behind him. How the lift in one of the swankiest apartment buildings in Monaco could ever be broken is a mystery to him, but it’s not one he can solve, so he resigns himself to his fate. By the time he gets to the top Max is there already, having got there about thirty seconds previously on account of carrying nothing but a backpack containing Charles’ laptop and assorted toiletries.

“You could have carried one of these suitcases, you know.”

He drops them outside the door and wipes the sweat from his brow, leaning against the wall and looking at Max with a pout.

“It’s exercise, your trainer will be happy.”

Charles glares at the Dutchman, who just responds with an exaggerated grin. He fishes the keys out of his pocket and opens the door, and Charles hauls the suitcases into the apartment hallway, making his way through to the lounge before collapsing face first onto the sofa. He’s vaguely aware of Max laughing as he follows into the living room and crouches next to him.

“Well, we did it. You’re officially moved in.”

Charles turns his head to face Max, eyelids heavy as he looks back at his boyfriend and moves to prop himself up on his elbow. A stray strand of hair falls onto his face and Max tucks it behind his ear, the light touch sending a shiver down Charles’ spine.

“I’ve basically lived here for ages, I just moved all my stuff over today.”

“And sold your old apartment. That’s a big step.” Max waves between the two of them with his hand. “Y’know, for us.”

“Yeah, I know.” He tilts his head a little and smiles. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Now come on, we have to cook dinner.”

Charles scoffs.

“_We_ have to cook dinner? You mean I have to cook dinner, you can’t cook!”

Max gasps in mock horror at this accusation, pulling Charles off the sofa and into a hug. Charles cries out at suddenly being manhandled, but he doesn’t resist, just flings his arms around Max’s shoulders to hold himself up. He only just manages to stabilise himself, giggling as Max holds him upright.

They remain still for a moment, laughter slowly dissipating into comfortable silence as Charles rests his chin on Max’s shoulder. He flails a little to move his arms from Max’s shoulders to rest them on his hips, humming contentedly as Max squeezes him tightly. After a few moments Max laughs quietly and jostles Charles, but he doesn’t budge.

“Are we going to move?”

Charles makes a vague groaning noise and hugs tighter, leaning further into Max’s embrace.

“If you wanted me to move you should have helped me carry my bags.”

“I carried some of your bags!”

“You carried _one _of my bags,” Charles gestures vaguely behind him to where his backpack is sitting. “and it was the lightest one.”

Max shrugs, pushing Charles off his shoulder as he does so. He quickly silences Charles’ protests with a gentle kiss, and Charles smiles into it, almost forgetting his hunger until Max drags him away, still smiling, in the direction of the kitchen.

* * *

Max gathers the empty take-out boxes in his arms before carrying them to the bin, Charles still lounging on the arm of the couch, the glare of the TV screen flickering across his pale face. It’s dark now, the clock on the wall reading ten o’clock.

“You know, I’m kind of glad you forgot to go shopping,” Charles calls into the kitchen as Max stuffs the cardboard into the recycling. “that take-out was probably better than anything you could have cooked.”

“Okay, rude.” Max shuffles back into the lounge, flopping down on the sofa and snuggling behind Charles. “Go live with Pierre or something if you’re going to insult my cooking skills.”

He presses a small kiss to Charles’ nape and the Monégasque chuckles.

“Pierre’s apartment is too messy. And besides,” He turns around awkwardly so he’s facing Max, their faces close enough that they’re practically sharing body heat. “you’re not there, so what’s the point?”

“You can’t use flattery to get out of this.”

Charles pouts and looks up at Max with bright eyes, the blue light of the TV creating a kind of halo effect around his fluffy hair.

“Can’t I?”

Max hums and tries his best to look upset, but can’t stop a small smile breaking across his face.

“Okay, you can. But only because I love you.”

Charles smiles warmly, and Max is still mesmerised at how no matter how many times they exchange those words, Charles’ eyes always light up as though it’s the first time he’s hearing them.

“I love you too,” he mumbles, “even if you can’t cook.”

Max can’t help himself anymore and he closes the gap between their mouths. Charles presses forwards, deepening the kiss before Max can pull away but the Dutchman doesn’t complain, just cups Charles’ cheek and pushes his tongue into his mouth. Charles lets out a barely audible moan and Max chuckles before pulling away and slowly moving Charles until he’s beneath him on the sofa.

Once Charles is comfortably laying on his back they resume the kiss, hungrier this time, more eager. Max moves to Charles’ jaw, dropping tiny kisses all the way down his neck before pausing to suck a bruise on his collarbone. Charles gasps and lays his palms flat on Max’s back, pushing his legs apart further to allow Max more space. Charles sighs as Max slides his hand down and palms him through his jeans, not too rough but not gentle either, just enough to have him bucking his hips in search of more.

Max runs his hand up Charles’ toned stomach, dragging the loose fabric of his t-shirt up with it. Charles gets the hint and shuffles to let Max pull it off. Max quickly makes his way down Charles’ chest, leaving a trail of tiny love bites on his soft skin. When he reaches Charles’ crotch he quickly fumbles to grab the TV remote, muting the volume before moving to undo Charles’ belt.

“Wanna hear you,” he smirks as he pulls Charles’ jeans and underwear down just far enough to expose his cock, almost fully hard already. Max licks a stripe up the base, and Charles lets out a soft whine as he lets his head fall back on the armrest. Max circles his tongue around the tip and waits for Charles to look down at him before he takes him into his mouth.

It takes everything Charles has not to buck up immediately, Max’s lips a tight heat around his cock. Max takes him in with practiced ease, keeping eye contact for as long as he can while he bobs up and down, drinking in the obscene noises Charles is making. He closes his eyes and groans against Charles’ cock, sending a wave of pleasure through Charles, making him moan as he struggles against Max’s hold on his hip.

“Ohh, Max…”

Max pulls off with a pop and looks up at Charles innocently.

“What?”

Charles laughs breathlessly and looks down, the sight of Max between his legs making his cock twitch. He’s about to ask Max to kindly go back to what he was doing before when Max licks at the tip, lapping the precum before taking Charles in all the way.

Charles can’t hold back a loud moan when his cock hits the back of Max’s throat and his hand finds its place at the back of Max’s head, not quite gripping his hair but just resting there. Max holds his position for a second before coming all the way back to the top again and starting a steady rhythm.

Through his haze of arousal, Charles distantly wonders whether he’s gotten used to this. Something tells him he should have, but he doesn’t think he has. He still can’t believe it, how lucky he is to have Max, and he hopes Max feels the same way about him as well. Just as the thought crosses his mind, Max moves his hand away from Charles’ hip, and he thinks he’s found his answer.

He thrusts up slightly, still tentative, and Max stills himself, loosening his jaw. He looks up at Charles, and the Monégasque grips his hair tighter and starts to fuck his mouth. Charles tries to set a pace but he’s getting too close, his movements becoming frantic and sloppy as he thrusts into the welcoming heat of Max’s throat. He’s vaguely aware of the moans he’s making, but all he can think right now is how fucking good Max feels_._

He can feel his orgasm approaching all too soon, and he tugs at Max’s hair in warning. Max quickly holds his hip again, stopping the thrusts and setting his own pace for the final moments. Charles cries out as he comes in Max’s mouth, the Dutchman swallowing down almost every last drop. A little falls from the corner of his mouth but he flicks his tongue out, licking it away before it can drop onto the sofa.

Charles’ breathing slowly returns to normal as Max crawls up to kiss him softly, Charles licking into Max’s mouth, fascinated by his own taste. Max goes to undo his own jeans, his aching cock practically screaming for attention but Charles shakes his head.

“Bedroom,” he breathes out, “I want you to fuck me.”

Max nods and grins, rolling off the sofa and grabbing Charles’ wrist to give him a hand up. They discard the rest of their clothes on the way to the bedroom, leaving them strewn across Max’s flat-_their_ flat. Charles is still woozy from his orgasm as he throws himself onto the bed, reaching straight into the bedside cabinet for the lube.

Max falls down practically on top of him, landing with his hands either side of Charles and kissing his neck playfully as Charles hands him the half empty bottle. Max gently turns him over, caressing his shoulders, running his hands down his back and kissing the soft skin, drinking in the soft gasps Charles makes as he does so. When he reaches Charles’ ass he kisses the small of his back before spreading him apart and pressing his tongue to his hole. Charles moans and buries his face in the pillow, his body still sensitive from moments before.

Max keeps working his tongue, licking around Charles’ hole before he pushes the first lubed finger in. Charles’ breath catches in his throat and he groans, half hard again already. Max curls his finger inside Charles before pushing a second finger in. He works him slowly,

“God, please Max,” he whimpers as he pushes his hips back to meet Max’s hand. “more, please.”

Max scissors his fingers before pouring more cold lube on them and adding a third finger, really opening Charles up. He cries out loudly as Max brushes over his prostate again and again, waving his hand vaguely to signal that he’s too close too soon.

“That’s enough, I’m ready.”

Max curls his fingers again and kisses his nape, whispering into his ear.

“You sure?”

Charles nods frantically and Max slowly withdraws his fingers and reaches for the drawer for a condom, but Charles grabs his hand and turns himself onto his back to look Max in the eyes.

“Not tonight, I want to feel just you,” He swallows as Max’s eyes grow darker with lust. “I want to feel all of you.”

Max nods and leans down to kiss Charles’ cheek before reaching for the lube again. He squirts a good amount onto his hand and slicks himself up before lining up with Charles. He waits for Charles to nod before pushing in slowly, all the way in.

Charles’ eyes flutter shut as he breathes through the familiar, snug feeling of Max inside him. They’ve done this so many times, but this way is his favourite; of course, he loves the rushed blowjobs between practice sessions and fast, hard fucks in their motorhomes, having his face pressed against a wall or pinning Max to the floor, all that rough stuff, but there’s something special when it’s just them, tangled in each other’s limbs, nothing else in the world to worry about.

“Fuck, you feel amazing, babe.”

Max’s strained voice brings Charles back to earth, and Charles brings his arms to Max’s shoulders, digging his nails in ever so slightly to signal for him to start moving. Max obliges, rolling his hips slowly to get into the rhythm. But it’s not enough, they both need more, and Charles brings his heels up to the small of Max’s back to encourage him to speed up.

Max gets the hint and starts to fuck him properly, making Charles throw his head back onto the pillow, moaning wantonly as he grips at Max’s back with sweaty hands, heart feeling as though it’s about to shatter his ribcage. He almost screams when Max hits the sweet spot inside him, making him arch his back, bringing them closer than ever.

“Oh _fuck, _right there!”

Max shifts his angle ever so slightly to really go deep, kissing across Charles’ collarbone and sucking more dark bruises there as Charles whimpers in his ear, his breath hot. Max reaches down to jerk Charles off and it’s almost too much, the feeling of Max on top of him, and he drags Max into a frantic kiss, licking into his mouth, savouring all of him. He runs his hand through Max’s hair and sighs, almost relaxed in this state, like he’s floating away from everything except Max.

“Max, Max, I’m comi-ah!”

His second orgasm hits him like a punch, the dual assault of Max inside him and jerking him off way too much for him to handle. He shoots ropes of pearly white across his chest, some of it handing on Max’s as well, and he clenches around Max as he comes. His tight heat ends up sending Max towards his own orgasm, coming deep inside Charles with a low grunt.

“Jesus.”

Max laughs and kisses Charles’ forehead before he slowly pulls out, fluid leaking uncomfortably out of Charles. He grabs the tissues from the bedside cabinet and carefully wipes them both clean before flopping down beside him. Charles rolls over and flings his arm over Max’s torso, and they end up lying facing each other, the moonlight coming in through the window illuminating Charles’ face and refracting through his eyes, giving them an almost diamanté glint.

Max feels himself becoming tired already, and he can see by Charles’ drooping eyelids that he’s almost asleep as well. He brings his hand up to Charles’ cheek and strokes his jaw softly, and Charles leans into the touch, closing his eyes. They fall asleep like that, bodies entwined and breathing practically synchronised, with no worries of having to rush back home in the morning because, after years of blind searching, they found their homes in each other.

**Author's Note:**

> listen. max probably looks at a pot noodle and puts it in the microwave thinking he's cooking. then charles has to buy them a new microwave.


End file.
